A Prayer about the Pain of Living in a Fallen World

A Prayer about the Pain of Living in a Fallen World

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. Romans 8:21

Compassionate Father,

We who live in Western culture are keenly aware 

that we don’t suffer the way people in other cultures do—

we don’t have to search for healthy drinking water, 

we are rarely persecuted for our faith, 

our children have access to good health care.

And yet, that does not change the reality 

of the pain of living in a fallen world. 

Your Word is clear— 

creation has been groaning ever since the fall, 

“subjected to futility” (Rom. 8: 20). 

Daily, we fight futility—

we answer all the emails but soon find the inbox full again, 

we do all the laundry, but soon the baskets overflow again,

the children heal from one virus only to get a new one two weeks later. 

Though these are the “trivial” pains we suffer, 

they capture something of the futility 

we will always experience until Jesus comes again.  

Far less trivial are the pain and grief and sin and struggle 

that pervade our world. 

Your Word is clear—

none of us will escape suffering. 

Betrayal in relationships, 

bodies breaking down, 

abusive parents battering hearts…

These are the painful realities of living in a fallen world. 

And yet there may be hope. 

Your Word promises 

that through the everyday futility 

and the deeper anguish of life in a fallen world, 

you are healing and redeeming. 

We who are united to Christ 

are united to him in his sufferings, 

and in suffering with him, 

we will “also be glorified with him” (Rom. 8:17). 

We who suffer now will not always suffer: 

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time 

are not worth comparing with the glory 

that is to be revealed in us” (Rom. 8:18). 

Dear Father, may we draw near to you 

in the pain of living in a fallen world, 

trusting that you are writing your redemption story, 

and that one day, you will finish your restoration work. 

Romans 8:12-25.



 

A Prayer about the Day of No More Tears

A Prayer about the Day of No More Tears

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

Revelation 21:4

Healing Lord,

January now brings with it for me many memories of my mom — 

her birthday on January 4; 

her death day on January 12; 

her funeral on January 8.*

As I remember her with sorrow and longing,

I return to the hope you offer me and my grieving friends:

The hope of the Day to come 

when there will be no more death, 

nor mourning, nor crying, 

nor pain. 

In these remarkable final chapters of your Word, 

you give us a glimpse of what that day will be like:

We will live in safety, with our identity secure in you,

because you will dwell with us (Revelation 21:3).

We will see Jesus face to face, 

and his name will be engraved 

on our forehead (Revelation 22:4).

We will drink for free and freely from 

the river of the water of life, 

and we will dine lavishly

 on the fruit of the tree of life (Revelation 21:6; 22:1).

We will marvel at your majesty, 

and we will long to serve you and no other (Revelation 22:3).

We will enjoy peaceful community 

of people from every tribe and tongue and nation (Revelation 21:4; 22:2).

There’s more, so much more, 

to that day 

which will last forever. 

We believe your promise, 

“Surely, I am coming soon,” 

and we cry in response, 

“Come, Lord Jesus.”

In your hope-giving name. Amen.

Read Revelation 21-22. 

*Because of Covid, we had to wait an entire year to have the funeral my mother had planned.



 

A Prayer about Suffering with the Savior

A Prayer about Suffering with the Savior

Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword shall pierce your soul also)…Luke 2:34-35

Comforting Father,

As this year draws to a close,

I know many look forward to a new year, 

hoping that it will soften the harsh edges 

of last year’s grief, bringing new joys. 

May it be so. 

And yet, as we consider the words of Simeon 

to Mary and Joseph, 

we see that the call of a Christian 

is to know the abiding joy of our salvation 

even as we suffer piercing swords in our souls. 

Jesus was born to die. 

We are called to be reborn to die—

to our consuming agendas, 

to our self-salvation strategies, 

to our demand for certainty and control. 

Like Mary and Joseph, 

we are always richly blessed 

by our Savior. 

Like Mary and Joseph, 

we will at times endure piercing pain 

as we follow our Savior.  

May we embrace our calling 

with hearts of hope, 

knowing that our Savior 

“endured the cross” 

“for the joy set before him,” 

the joy of making us your beloved children. 

In the name of our Suffering Savior, Jesus, 

we pray. Amen.

Read Luke 2:33-35. 



 

A Prayer about the Comfort of a Suffering Savior

A Prayer about the Comfort of a Suffering Savior

Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. Isaiah 53:4

Father of All Comfort,

With the losses of recent years mounting, 

divisions among friends and families, 

disease throughout the world,  

death of dear ones, 

we’re aware that this Christmas season 

may not be so merry for everyone. 

And yet, into the silent and dark season long ago, 

you sent your very own Son, 

a baby born to bear our griefs, 

a child delivered to carry our sorrow, 

an infant sent to suffer for our sins, 

Because he submitted to this suffering, 

we can know the “peace on earth” 

we will sing about in this season. 

Because he was “afflicted” by you (Isaiah 53:4), 

we can know the “joy to the world” 

we sing about in this season. 

Even in the midst of sorrow, 

may we see the profound hope of healing 

we have in our suffering Savior.

Amen. 

Read Isaiah 53:1-12. 

Get Elizabeth’s Advent devotional for free here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/34no8c805q.



 

A Prayer about Our Tear-Counting God

A Prayer about Our Tear-Counting God

You keep track of all my sorrows. 

You have collected all my tears in your bottle. 

You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8 

Tear-Counting God,

It has been a long season of loss for many.

Our friends are mourning, as are we…

Some have lost homes in fires and floods,

Some have lost children to miscarriage and the misery of sin,

Some have lost aunts or uncles or mothers or fathers to dementia or death,

Some have lost relationships to betrayal and abuse…

Some have lost peace in their country to war,

We’ve shed so many tears.

How can we endure the pain, Lord?

Only by knowing that you care about our tears,

that you count and collect them.

Only by knowing that you sent your Son

to weep real tears before he died on a cross

to redeem all of our tears.

Only by knowing that one day, our Savior will return,

and in that day, you will ever so gently

wipe the tears from our eyes. 

How we look forward to that day!

How we thank you for your love!

In Jesus’ weeping name. Amen.

Read Psalm 56; Revelation 21:4.



A Prayer about Affliction

A Prayer about Affliction

I know, O Lord, that your rules are righteous, and that in faithfulness you have afflicted me.

Psalm 119:75

Faithful Lord,

The truth is, we don’t like to think that you afflict us. 

And then, when we do think you afflict us, 

we don’t always remember that it is 

“in faithfulness” that you do so. 

Today, I can more easily see how and why 

you might allow what feels like affliction in our lives. 

We have had to withhold food

from our beloved dog-who-thinks-she-is-a-person 

since last night at 8 p.m., 

because she is getting her teeth cleaned today. 

She has begged, 

she has nudged, 

she has barked her displeasure 

at not getting her morning treats, 

her morning meal, 

and her second round of morning treats. 

(I know, maybe we’re too extravagant with her?) 

(But not any less so than you are with us!).

To her, this feels like affliction. 

But we know that if we fed her, 

she might aspirate while under the anesthetic. 

Finally, she has settled, 

choosing to take a nap, 

choosing to trust 

that we have a good reason 

for “afflicting” her. 

Today, Lord, we pray that we would do the same—

that we would settle, 

that we would trust you, 

that we would know any affliction we experience 

is faithfully, sovereignly, lovingly 

administered by you. 

In the name of our afflicted Savior we pray. Amen.

Read Psalm 119:67, 71, 75.